Mama Loved Us

The sweet bleach on her hands,
her life's work scrubbing pans.
Knuckles blistered and cracked,
true beauty she did not lack.

She had time for a garden;
her pale fingers would harden.
Unyielding to the setting sun,
so much she could not get done.

She could sew me a surprise,
dry the tears from my eyes.
She'd bellow a merry story;
there was no end to her glory.

Her life unalterably simplified;
Mama loved us 'til the day she died.


The woman who always told me to tell the truth, taught me white lies.

You have no idea how confusing life has been.